FicWad

It was as though time had slowed down. The smell of mildew and garbage clung to her nostrils. Her ragged breath ripped painfully through her chest as she ran. Her eyes watered in fear and exertion as the pounding footsteps behind her grew closer and closer. The sun overhead glared in her face like a spotlight, as though it were waiting for her to slip up.
Her heart thundered in her ears and without warning a fist was ripping her to the ground by her hair. She slammed against the dirty pavement with a dull thud. A silhouette stood ominously above her a gleaming blade in hand. The dark figure pressed it to her throat.
Abbey would have shot awake, if there hadn’t been a strong arm tucked firmly around her. She inhaled sharply and squirmed in fear turning to see her captor. She quickly stilled as she saw Tré’s sleeping face, his head leaning against the back of the couch and a soft snore emanating from his throat. Her cheeks reddened and she attempted to slip from his grasp. Then Frankito started down the stairs, an entertained look on his face.
“Help?” Abbey squeaked quietly. Frankito approached with a faint chuckle, he clutched Tré’s shoulder, then.
“Dad,” He shouted shaking him and Abbey in the process. His grip on Abbey loosened but he didn’t open his eyes. Abbey took this opportunity to make her escape and ducked from beneath his muscular bicep only to accidentally sit on the bag of not-so-frozen peas. Frankito shook Tré harder and finally after a moment he squinted up at him.
He scratched his mussed up auburn hair and mumbled, “The fuck?”
Frankito looked down upon him with an amused grin, “Dad, it’s 7:40.”
“What?” Abbey asked frantically. Without waiting for an answer Abbey shot to her feet and ran upstairs to get ready. Ever since last night, she had been determined to make it up to Adrienne, if she’d let her. Abbey tried to envision Adrienne’s face red with anger but the image was unclear. She dressed as quickly as possible and darted back downstairs where Tré sat grinning tiredly up at her. She blushed as she reached the couch. He stood and walked towards her and she surprised them both by taking a few steps back. The time she spent in his arms was wonderful but she never in a million years expected anything to come of it. Tré turned then and quickly grabbed his keys from the table. They wordlessly slipped through the door and started toward Gypsy. Once inside, Tré smiled contentedly and blazed from the driveway.
It was an especially warm day for late summer and Abbey could feel the sweat beading on the back of her neck as they pulled up out front of Adeline. Tré caught her attention and for a moment they just looked quietly into each other’s eyes. Rouge blossomed in Abbey’s bruised cheeks and she had to look away. Tré laughed in amusement and cleared his throat.
“Adrienne has my number,” He began, “So if you want to come home early or anything.” He trailed off and Abbey smiled inwardly at his mention of home, it seemed Tré had grown comfortable with her presence.
“I’ll be good, today,” She promised only half-joking.
She slipped from Gypsy’s smooth interior and towards the nondescript building. As she reached the door she rounded to see Tré still watching, an encouraging smirk on his thin lips. She waved quickly and shoved inside. Already the exquisite lobby was flooded with just about every type of person. She squeezed against the wall as an old man with a large cart, moved to refill the vending machine, only to bump into a young boy, whose face was extremely reminiscent of his father’s.
“Jacob,” She said then, “Is your mom around?”
“Yeah,” Jacob said shoving away from the wall, “She’s around here somewhere, running around like a chicken with her head cut off, probably.” Abbey chuckled and followed after him towards Adrienne’s office. The desk outside Adrienne’s door was stacked with invoices for Abbey to file but first she had to apologize.
She knocked timidly and Jacob scurried down the hallway calling after someone.
“Come in,” Adrienne shouted from inside and Abbey let herself in, closing the door behind her.
“Adrienne,” She started, “I’m so sorry.” Adrienne glowered at computer screen before her.
“Taking off like that was inexcusable,” Abbey stammered. Adrienne looked up at her now and gasped. She stood and walked toward Abbey. She grabbed Abbey’s chin and turned her face to examine it.
“You look awful,” She told her softly. Abbey instinctively jerked away from her grasp. Adrienne didn’t seem to notice as she picked up the phone from her desk.
“Sofia,” She said immediately, “I’ve got an emergency here, come as soon as you can and bring your kit.” With that she placed the phone back on its receiver and sat back down in her cushy office chair.
“Sofia?” Abbey asked softly, “Who’s she?” Adrienne had already returned to scowling at her computer.
“Our makeup artist, for photo shoots,” Adrienne told her without looking up.
Then, a tall blonde stepped through the door, a large makeup case in her hands. Abbey glanced nervously back at her and Sofia gasped, in the same manner Adrienne had.
“This really in an emergency,” Sofia said starting toward Abbey, “You’re a disaster.”
“Sofia,” Adrienne admonished her.
“What?” She asked with attitude, “It’s true.” Adrienne sighed and Abbey stood silently, embarrassed.
“Get her cleaned up,” Adrienne chuckled, “But quickly, Jacob and the guys have a photo shoot at 10.” Sofia nodded and practically shoved Abbey into a chair.
“Can we get more light in here?” Sofia asked Adrienne, “I have a lot of work to do.” Adrienne pulled the curtains aside, flooding the room with sunlight. For the next 45 minutes, Abbey felt like a guinea pig as Sofia applied huge amounts of concealer to her damaged face. That part was the quickest but Sofia insisted that she be allowed to completely make her over. She seemed almost excited. Abbey guessed that she was good.
She applied makeup to Abbey’s eyes, which she could only imagine was more expensive than she could ever afford. She plucked Abbey’s eyebrows until her eyes watered from the sting. From there, she covered Abbey’s chapped lips in lipstick and lip liner, snarking all the time. Finally, she tugged Abbey’s hair into a thick braid at the back of her neck before stepping back to admire her work.
“I’m a miracle worked,” She told Abbey with a smug smile. Abbey sat still so as not to ruin Sofia’s masterpiece. Sofia quickly called Adrienne into the office. As she stepped inside, she gasped, again, but this time in awe.
“You’re a miracle worker,” She told Sofia, confirming her thoughts.
“I know,” Sofia told her with a grin, “she’s actually kind of cute when she doesn’t look like she was in a bar fight.” Abbey flushed and it took all her strength not to cover her face with her hands.
“What do you think?” Sofia asked Abbey holding a mirror for her to see. Abbey, too, gasped. She found herself more beautiful than she had ever been. There was no trace of the purple blemish that had adorned her face just an hour before. Her green eyes were bright and glowing, her pink lips plump and pretty.
“You’re amazing,” Abbey murmured. Adrienne nodded in ascent.
Abbey stood then.
“I really should get to work,” She reminded them. Adrienne smiled at her initiative and held the door open for her.
As she skittered out Sofia called after her, “You better not screw up my hard work.” For the next 7 hours, Abbey powered through her paperwork, finishing in record time. She typed out memos and fliers with a smile on her face, the whole time. She was beginning to feel human again.
At five, she knocked on Adrienne’s door to say good-bye. Adrienne called for her to come in and as she stepped inside Adrienne smiled up at her.
“I was just stopping into to say bye,” Abbey told her with a grin. Now that her fear had subsided, she really enjoyed working for Adrienne.
“You were great, today,” Adrienne complimented her.
“Thanks,” Abbey said clinging to the doorknob, thinking of Tré most likely already waiting out front, “That means a lot to me.”
“Well, we’re all having a thing tonight, at the beach,” Adrienne told her cautiously. Abbey just stood looking her in her dark eyes.
“I’d like you to come,” Adrienne said then, before adding, “If you want to.”
“I’ll be there,” Abbey confirmed with a smile before excusing herself from Adrienne’s office. As she stepped outside, the humidity hit her full on, like a cup of hot water thrown in her face. Already at the curb, Tré sat inside Gypsy with the top down. As she approached she saw he was wearing a black wife beater with his tattooed biceps exposed. She thanked God for the concealer on her cheeks as she blushed scarlet. As she hopped in the passenger seat, Tré did a double take.
“What?” She asked shyly as his eyes took in her made over face. To her surprise Tré himself blushed. Her eyebrows rose and her cheeks grew even hotter.
“Nothing,” He told her queerly, “You just look different.” She chuckled and pulled her leather jacket from her shoulders. Tré placed a small plastic bag in her lap.
“What is this?” She asked him with puzzlement.
“It’s a tank top and shorts,” He started, “This is California, it’s too hot to wear jeans and T-shirts all the time.” She blanched, remembering about the beach. She thanked him hesitantly and they started down the street.
“You can change when we get home,” He told her with a smirk, “Mike and them are already at the beach.” ‘Of course he already knows Adrienne invited me,’ She thought, ‘or maybe it was his idea.’ As she pushed thought away, Tré flipped the radio on, where Billy Idol’s ‘Dancing with Myself’ played. Tré surprised her by turning it up and beginning to sing and by the time they pulled in the driveway both of them were singing at the top of their lungs. Tré smiled coyly at her as he let her inside where Frankito sat, already dressed in a wetsuit, waxing a surfboard.
“How’s the surf going to be today, Frankie?” Tré asked him with a proud grin.
“There are supposed to be huge swells,” Frankito told him with more excitement than Abbey had ever seen from him. She excused herself upstairs with the plastic bag in hand. As she stepped inside the spare room, she sighed with worry. She stripped down to her underwear before examining the contents of the bag. She blushed as she pulled a skimpy red tank top and jean shorts from inside. ‘Way to be subtle, Tré,’ She thought as she pulled them on. She pulled her leather jacket back on over her bare shoulders without a thought.
“You’re wearing a leather jacket to the beach?” Tré asked with an odd look in his eyes, as she came downstairs.
“It’s not even that hot,” She lied swiftly, heading for the door. Tré rolled his blue eyes and followed her out, Frankito in tow.
“Shotgun!” Frankito called hopping into the passenger seat of Gypsy. Abbey chuckled and got in the backseat. They drifted through the burning California streets with smiles on their faces.
By the time they parked at Crown Beach, Frankito was already out of the car and running toward the water, surfboard under his arm. Tré hopped out of Gypsy, before opening Abbey’s door for her with an accommodating grin. She smiled over at him and they began down the beach, where a black S.U.V. sat next to a darkened patch of sand, which had been used for a bonfire sometime recently, surrounded by lawn chairs. She kicked off her Chuck’s and held them over her shoulder by the laces. She sighed, breathing the smell of salt water and feeling the sand between her toes. Mike hopped out of the S.U.V., a small, pretty, blonde girl in his arms. She shrieked in joy and Mike put her down with a chuckle. The girl ran to Tré and he grabbed and spun her around quickly in a circle.
“Uncle Tré,” She squealed as he placed her back on her feet, “What took you so long?” Abbey noticed the little girl had already a light tan.
“I was picking Abbey,” Tré explained, gesturing to her. The blonde child smiled shyly up at her.
“Hi, I’m Ryan,” She told Abbey with a quick wave before running to the S.U.V., as Mike’s wife, Brittney climbed from the passenger seat. Ryan was just her likeness in a smaller version. The beautiful blonde, smiled toothily and scooped Ryan into her arms. As they approached the large truck Abbey saw a mini version of Mike, Brixton, no doubt. Without notice, she was suddenly smiling so hard her cheeks hurt even worse than before. Tré smirked over at her and sat down, while she shoved her hands in the pockets of her shorts before wondering how exactly Tré had figured out her clothing sizes. She looked at him with confusion and he beamed innocently up at her, before a Frisbee hit him in the head.
He and Abbey turned to see Billie Joe walking hand in hand with Adrienne, laughing heartily, Jakob and Joey behind them, both in wet suits. Abbey burst out laughing, then. Tré frowned comically at her and raised an eyebrow before standing, grabbing the Frisbee, launching it at Billie and missing completely.
Billie chuckled as the Frisbee sailed off into the choppy ocean. In the distance, Abbey could see Frankito paddling out, Jakob and Joey running out with their boards, to meet him.
“Nice one,” Mike commented with a laugh, walking out to meet Billie and Adrienne. Tré shrugged and sat back down before waving Abbey over. She knelt beside him and he pulled a flask from the pocket of his shorts.
“Want some?” He asked her slyly, before taking a swig.
“What about Billie?” Abbey asked in a hushed tone, her eyes wide with worry. Tré rolled his eyes.
“Billie’s fine, I mean people get drunk at our shows all the time,” Tré said as though he was reassuring himself, “just be discreet.”
“I think I’m okay,” She told him, pulling herself into the chair next to him. Tré shrugged and slid the flask back in his pocket with a smile. Soon, Mike had started a driftwood fire, the flames burning blue and green due to sea salt. The 9 of them sat in a circle around the heat. Billie Joe sat strumming an acoustic guitar, absently, Adrienne’s chair pulled up close next to him, a smile on her round face. They all talked expeditiously with the exception of Abbey, who was contented to just listen. Tré smiled over at her and drank from his flask, occasionally.
Ryan and Brixton slept in the laps of Mike and Brittney, smiles on their faces as the sunset streaked orange and pink across the sky, until it met the ocean.
“I think I should probably get them home,” Brittney said gazing at Ryan’s dreaming face with a very maternal look. Mike started to stand but Adrienne held her hand up.
“I can give you a ride,” Adrienne told her with a smile, looking to Jakob and Joey, who sat looking only mildly interested in their surroundings, before turning to Tré, “I can take Frankito, too. I drove the van.” Tré looked to Frankito, who just shrugged and stood. Abbey blushed as Mike and Billie kissed their gorgeous wives good-bye before they started down the beach to the parking lot, Ryan and Brixton in each of their arms.
Once they were gone, Tré hopped to his feet and started down the darkened beach. Abbey, Mike and Billie just stared after him in confusion.
“Are you coming?” He shouted over his shoulder and Abbey was on her feet following him, Mike and Billie in tow, the three still looking puzzled. As they reached him, he smiled and pulled something from behind his ear that Abbey hadn’t seen before. He held the joint out for her to see.
“Do you partake?” He asked her sounding quite amused, she nodded hesitantly and Billie and Mike laughed.
He pulled a lighter from his pocket expertly lit the J and inhaled, before passing it to Billie. Abbey’s eyes were wide as Tré began to cough and Billie gave the joint to Mike. Before long, the three of them were coughing, standing in the middle of the beach.
“It’s been a while,” Billie grumbled, a smile on his plump lips. Mike and Tré laughed and soon the joint was in Abbey’s shaking hand. ‘Don’t do anything stupid,’ she warned herself before taking a large hit, only to hack painfully. When the joint was burned to almost nothing, Tré threw the roach in the sand and they made their way back to the bonfire.
The four of them sat close together, Billie picking the acoustic back up and strumming with more focus. Their eyes grew red and soon they were all four making the most stupid jokes any one had ever heard, including Abbey, which surprised the guys.
“We should get you high, more often,” Tré commented with an elated grin, after she made a particularly ridiculous joke about Mike’s hair. Abbey rubbed her drooping eyes and smiled admiringly back at him. Mike cleared his throat, startling them both.
At some point Billie had acquired a napkin and pen and now sat scribbling on to it, on his knee.
“I’d better get Billie home,” Mike told them with a sleepy smile. Billie grinned toothily.
“I’ve got to play this shit out,” Billie told them standing, his guitar across his back. They said their good-byes and Mike and Billie drove from the beach, as the bonfire reduced to embers.
Tré and Abbey made their way back to Gypsy, so close their hands bumped occasionally as they walked in comfortable silence. They cruised the dark streets, as Blind Melon sang ‘Rain’ through the speakers. Abbey sighed with joy as the wind blew her too-long hair back. They soon pulled into the driveway, Abbey’s eyes growing heavy. They ambled to the door of the darkened house and Tré let them in.
He flipped the lights on, once inside and rotated Abbey to take off her jacket and in her thoughtlessness, she let him. She remembered as he gasped and dropped her jacket to the ground. She went to turn quickly but he gently grabbed her shoulders to stop her. A knot formed in her throat as he took it all in.
Her back was barely visible through the tank top, but what skin that was exposed was covered in scars. Long, pink, jagged scars lined the skin of her back; the rest was marred by burns. He turned her to face him then, his light-blue eyes blazing with anger and shock.
She shook her head, silently pleading for him to not ask.
“W-who did that to you?” Tré demanded with a quaver in his furious voice.
“No,” She gasped, tears brimming her wide, green eyes.
“No, what?” He asked confusion mingling with his anger, no sign of relenting slipping though. Her knees gave out then and she dropped to the floor. She relived all the memories she had blocked out for those months, in a matter of seconds. A sob ripped through her, though to her it sounded more like the cry of a wounded animal.
“Please,” She begged in a hushed tone remembering Frankito upstairs, tears streaming down her cheeks, ruining Sofia’s work, “Don’t make me talk about it.”
Tré too, dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around her, protectively. She burrowed into his chest, pleading with herself to forget, for the pain to wane like last night, but it remained.
“Never?” He whispered into her hair. She turned her head to look at him and found their faces only inches apart, his eyeliner rimmed eyes piercing hers. He softly swiped a tear from her eye and her skin became hot.
“Someday,” She promised him, cursing herself inside, all the while. She froze as he leaned in toward her. He lightly kissed her forehead and pulled her closer.
“I’ll be waiting,” He pledged. Any doubt she had then about Tré wanting her around vanished and for a moment, only a moment she felt no pain.